A Charmingly Broken Story
by Suitslover14
Summary: A rebel attack might be what it takes for the two lovebirds to realize something important, to both. America whump. First chapter in America's point of view, second in Maxon's. May make into a series. The honor to these characters belongs to Kiera Cass Cover photo from partylikeawordstar.
1. Chapter 1

**A/n Okay so I just finished The One and a vicious little plot bunny decided to pop into my head and tell me not to sleep. So I wrote this, suck it plot bunny. It takes place in the second book. I wanted more America whump and I wanted to see Maxon react to that. I hope you enjoy it, please review. I know its different from most things I write but I really worked hard on this. **

I saw the rebels before I heard them, that was an odd occurrence, most of the time the alarms sounded. But this time they had found a way into the palace. I looked for the signs of Southern rebels, praying to god that it was the northerners but no such luck. I looked at one of them carrying a gun, ripe with blood splatters, Gun shots fired everywhere. I was frozen but something deep inside me, an ache told me to fight, willed my legs to move. I ran, I pumped my legs harder and harder, all through the palace, my legs burned, my chest heaved, my vision was becoming spotty, I was losing endurance. But still I ran, I ran until I ran into something, hard. I flew backwards, the person I had flung into still holding their ground. I willed the dizziness to go way and regained my vision finding myself staring into a gun. It was a Southerner; he smiled wickedly, the dazzling smile fazing me for a bit. I wanted to scream but he held me there, his blue eyes locking onto mine. I shook my head, he was charming and he knew it, using it against me to his own advantage. I stood up, trying to catch him off guard but he swung the pistol around, landing a blow to the side of my head. Fireworks exploded in my vision and I cried out. Not wanting to feel the harsh ground catch me but, fortunately, I was long gone before I hit the ground, before Aspen took out the rebel and before Maxon turned the corner, looking for me.

"America." A voice pleaded, it was deep and familiar, like rich honey on a homemade biscuit

I wanted to touch the person who had that voice, I wanted to sing to them to make them feel special. But a part of me knew that I already had sung to that person, that I did know him. Him? Hmm, maybe my brain was working in my own part. I tried to talk, tried to tell them that I was okay, that all I needed was for them to keep talking. For their voice to flow over me, healing my headache, healing the burning that I felt behind my eyes. Instead, I groaned, which was enough for the person because the continued.

"America, please, open your eyes." It cried, shaking my arm, only to let it go limp again.

I sighed, I didn't know who was talking but I didn't want them to sound so sad. I turned over only to have my heart burst into dazzling flavors of pain. I whimpered and suddenly there were hands on me, soothing me, running up and down my back. A beeping close to my heart beeped faster, more frantically and I wanted it to stop. Any fight in me that I had to try and see the man behind the soothing voice was gone, and once again I let the soothing tide of unconsciousness pull me away.

I sucked in a deep breath and blinked open my eyes, shooting up in the bed. The rebels were here, they were by me, I had been running. I was confused, I had been in the palace hallway, brilliant drapes surrounding massive windows and elegant stairs close enough for me to reach. That last memory did not match with the white walls and cotton sheets. Didn't match to the heart monitor and the mask fitted over my face. I sighed, my brain finally deciding to fill me in on the events, on the pistol whipping. The curtain flung back suddenly and I whimpered, sinking into my sheets and preparing myself to find my prediction wrong, that the rebels really were still in the place. But it was just Maxon, he was reading and I sat up straighter. He looked older than before, his golden locks ruffled and messy and brown bags filled the space under his equally brown eyes. He was sadly smiling at the book and I couldn't help but wonder what he was reading that made him happy and sad.

"Maxon?" I asked, my voice muffled under the mask.

He started, dropping the book and looking at me, frightened. I was afraid he was going to run away, realize that he had accidently walked to the hospital wing. But he just ran over to me and flung his muscular arms around my shoulders. I sucked in a breath, it was down to the Elite now and he had spent a lot of time with Kriss. I had wondered more than once if he had forgotten about me, that he didn't care about me. But when he pulled back, I knew that his heart ached, that he had a desire to want me, to need me and that he loved me. I knew because I felt it pull at my heart too. It wasn't like with Aspen, we fell in love like being shot. Quick and surprising, but after it happens, you know that you will be in pain of you ever leave them, and when they do you don't know what to do. But with Maxon it was a slow burn, a fire building and building until it could withstand stormy arguments, icy tones, and full sized tears.

"You're awake." He whispered, almost as if he was afraid that I would break if he talked to loud.

"I am." I smiled, letting the brightness of it shine through the oxygen mask I had failed to remove.

"I was so afraid, America. You… you almost died. I missed you; it hurt me to see you hurt. And when you crumpled to the ground, I thought you did die. You had a seizure; it was almost too hard for me to carry you to the safe room." He blurted, tears filling his milky amber eyes.

"I'm so sorry Maxon." I apologized, not that it was my fault, but I felt bad that he had to witness that, that he had to see me like that. "I didn't know that we made it to the safe room." I admitted.

"I know you were still unconscious even after you stopped convulsing. I think you horrified the other girls too." He said, his eyes haunted, remembering the horrible hours stuck in the safe room most likely.

"How long?" I croaked out.

"A week, the doctors were losing hope that you would ever wake up." He went into that impossibly quiet voice again.

"When did you come and plead for me to wake up?" I asked, horrified at the answer but yet knew that I had to find out.

"That was 2 days ago, when they told me that you were holding your own but still in a coma. I thought it had worked. You know you are such a tease sometimes." He smiled, the mood lifting just at the fact that conscious or not I was the same impossibly stubborn, and tauntingly different redhead he had met that first day.

"Maxon?" I giggled.

"Yes." He responded moving closer, his mouth so close to my ear his breath felt like a thousand hummingbirds.

"I love you." I admitted, knowing that now was the moment that I had to say it.

"I love you too." He replied, pulling the mask off and kissing me deeply. I smiled through the kiss, knowing that here or not, and conscious or not, he would always love me and I would always love him.

**A/N Did you like it? Please review. BTW I was totally Team Maxon the entire series. Never wavered. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N I felt like we missed so much detail in my first chapter. So I wrote the excat same story, same plot and dialogue but it's in Maxon's POV. I hope that more of you guys review. I will write a third chapter in Aspen's POV if you guys want too. I might also make this a series of America whump with Maxon caring. Let me know. Review!**

The alarms sounded and my heart picked up. Where were the rebels? Were the girls okay? My parents, were they okay too? I bolted upright. I needed to find America, yes me and Kriss had clicked, but she was a replacement, a square block small enough to slide into the circular hole reserved for America, but not able to fit the whole thing. I loved America, even though neither of us had said it, I loved her and I believed that she loved me. I couldn't lose her, I couldn't send her home, and I sure as hell weren't going to allow the rebels to take her down

I raced down the hallway, I could hear the shouts around me and I reached the hallway. I peered out, noticing that the rebels were armed and firing. _Must be the Southerners, shoot, I have to find America now. _ I raced through hallway through hallway, dodging the rebels and remaining unseen. I heard a thump, a body hitting the floor. But it wasn't a guard, it was too light, it had to be one of the girls. I picked up the pace, turning the corner to see America crumple to the ground. The gas on her temple oozing blood the color of her beautiful hair. Officer Ledger was a few inches away, shooting; I followed his shots to the rebel who did this. Well, who _had _done this; he had lost his life to his own sick cause of gaining power. Officer Ledger nodded at me and I took that as a cue. I sprinted across the magnificent hallway of my palace, kneeling down by America. She looked so pale, her hair a stark contrast to the milky white of her skin. Her blue eyes were closed, she almost looked like she was sleeping, but I knew better.

"America?" I whispered, shaking her shoulder, trying to get her to wake up. It didn't work

"Your Majesty, you need to get to the safe room." Officer Ledger commanded from behind me and I looked up. His eyes looked fearful, I remembered that he knew America, they both lived in Carolina.

I nodded mutely and looked back down at my love. But this time, she was convulsing, her body leaving the floor and hitting it again with a sickening crack. Again and again and again. My eyes grew wide and I scooped her up in my arms. I had to get her to the safe room, where we could to something. Her limbs were flying wildly and she almost hit me a few times. I struggled to keep hold on her body, the blood pouring from her wound flying everywhere and making them slick. I tightened my grip and narrowed my brown eyes, spotting the passage that led to the silver staircase. I pushed on a single brick and it slid open, revealing the best chance of take care of America. She was lighter now and as I looked down at her in my arms I knew why. She had stopped struggling, stopped convulsing, the pistol whipped brain slowing. I sighed, both pleased and worried. When she was moving, I knew that she was alive, but now she felt so still. I climbed down the steps and pounded on the safe room door. It opened a sliver, revealing a guard with his weapon drawn, ready for action. Upon seeing me, his eyes widened and he was shocked to see one of the Elite so badly injured. He stepped aside and I slid into the doorway, heading straight for the floor. I set her on the floor, pushing my fingers against her neck to feel her pulse. It wasn't there and I sucked in a breath, that's when I noticed her chest wasn't moving either.

I looked up, seeing the horrified faces of the rest of the Elite girls; they had all made it downstairs in time. Each one had a perfectly manicured hand over their mouths and I could see Kriss trying not to cry. Even Celeste's forehead was crinkled in worry.

"She needs help, she's not breathing, and she doesn't have a pulse." I stated, looking for Silvia. She appeared a moment later, with a heart shocking thing that I had never seen used before.

"Hook this up to her chest, your Majesty." She stated, pulling the top of her dress down and revealing the under layer on which I could lay the pads.

I agreed, sticking them to her chest, her skin felt impossibly cold and clammy when my hand passed it and I fought back a shiver. I stepped away, leaving it to Silvia and a guard that had been trained medically. They were both focused and I watched as the guard hooked the pads to the machine. Silvia was sticking a tube down America's throat and I gasped. She attached a bag and pumped air into America's lungs. I felt relieved when the tube allowed America to breathe, her chest bobbing up and down at each pump. The guard had the heart shocker hooked up and I looked at the screen, her heart still beating. It was irregular though. I didn't know what that meant, until the Guard shouted for people to stand clear. They were going to use it on my princess, on my bride to be. I forced myself to look away as the pads buzzed with electricity. I heard America's body convulse, the electricity flowing through her body freely. Her head hit the ground again and I winced, I didn't want any more damage to happen to her.

I studied the tiles until my breathing slowed down and turned around just in time for the electricity to jolt through her again. Her back arched against the current and returned to the original lifeless position. She looked like glass then, delicate and so easily broken. Silent tears streamed down my face as the Guard shook his head, indicating that it hadn't worked. He took out a syringe and filled it with a drug I didn't recognize, He took her arm and injected it in her. I didn't know what that was supposed to do but he geared up to shock her again.

"Clear!" He screamed, and I noticed that my hearing had gone back to normal, my head swimming with less shock.

Her body arched again, and her fists clenched at her sides. She fell back down and onto the monitor her heart fell into a steady rhythm. The air rushed back into the room and I looked up to see everyone with relief etched on their faces. I let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding and listened to her heart beat. Listened to the sound of America being alive. _ Bum-beep. Bum-beep. Bum-beep. _It went over and over. I let exhaustion from the adrenaline wash over me and I closed my eyes. I let myself dream of America, of our walks in the garden, of her penny jar, of the Halloween dance, and of us getting married very soon.

I sat in a private cubicle that America had been moved to, a curtain separating her from the other important patients. Her bed white as the moon and blue cotton sheets covering her. Light filtered in through the small window to my right, illuminating her silky red hair that glowed even after 3 days. 3 days… I sighed, my mind going back into thoughts about America. After the rebels had been evacuated from the palace, America had been moved to the hospital wing, they ran a few tests. She was declared in a coma 3 days ago, today it was 5 days after the attack. I never left her side, I didn't want to. The other Elite girls had visited, wishing her good luck in recovery, and Kriss had complained that they never saw me anymore. I didn't care, they were second to America. She was my number one priority. Even being coaxed by the doctors and my mother, and the girls, I hadn't left America except to eat and shower. I spent long nights doing work and fiddling with my camera, scrolling through photo after photo of America that she didn't know I had taken.

"I can see you are still here your Majesty." The doctor said as her strolled in. "You really should get some rest.

"And she really should wake up, but she is still unconscious and I am still sitting vigil. What's your point?" I growled, he was really getting on my nerves.

"I do not have a point your Majesty." He retorted, remembering his place.

"You said she would be awake by now." I said, anxious for answers, updates, anything. He hadn't kept me in the loop, instead keeping her vitals and reports trapped in his bald head.

"Prince Maxon, I am sorry to say but I don't think that she will wake up." He apologized, staring into my amber eyes.

"What do you mean? We pay you for the best medical care! Do you mean today or do you mean soon?" I threatened, it had to be one or the other-didn't it?

"Your Majesty, sit down. You do pay me well but she has been hit in the head, had 4 seizures over the past 5 days, and had been clinically dead for 5 minutes down in the safe room. I cannot help that. She is well enough to breathe on her own, thus the oxygen mask replacing the tube but…." He trailed off and I had to keep from choking him for not completing his medical rant.

"But what?" I snapped.

"There's little hope that she will ever wake up." He blurted, racing out the door before I lost my temper.

I sank back into my chair, my heart constricted, she may never wake up. My bride may never wake up, I may never hear her voice again, see her rebellious attitude, hear her say my name. I choked, tears streaming down my face. I was going to lose the only girl I had ever loved, to what? A rebel who had a lucky shot at her head when he pistol whipped her? She had to wake up, maybe if I tried hard enough she would.

"America." I cried. She groaned and my heart fluttered with hope. "America, please open your eyes." I pleaded, shaking her arm. It went limp again and signs of life in her were fading. But she sighed and turned on her side, showing the life that the doctor had denied only moments ago.

As she turned, her face screwed up in pain, and her hands tried to move to clutch at her head. She whimpered, squirming in her seat and I embraced her writhing body in my arms. I rubbed y hands up and down her back, soothing her. But then, she went limp again, her heart monitor speeding up. It became erratic and she went into her fifth seizure since the incident. I rolled her onto her side, keeping her from suffocated and screwed my eyes shut. I hated to see this, to see her in pain, sick, convulsing on her bed with no knowledge of what is happening. The doctor rushed in and I opened my eyes. He had taken out a sedative that I knew too well. He pinched her am and inserted the needle. Slowly, her body slowed down and she dropped back into the darkness that I was afraid of losing her to.

I walked out of the library, a book in hand. It had been a week since the rebel attack and a couple of days since she almost woke up. I had been passing my time reading, she always seemed to have a book in her hand and the more I read, the more I felt that she was here with me. I opened to the first page and let the words wash over me, heal me of the pain and exhaustion America's injury has caused me. I was reading the Catcher in the Rye, one of America's favorites and as I walked back into her private curtained area I smiled sadly. I remembered how she used to curl up anywhere and read, shut out the world completely and get sucked into the book.

"Maxon?" A voice croaked, muffled and quiet.

I started and dropped the book. My eyes darted across the room before settling on America, awake and well. I stood there blinking, afraid that my sleep-exhausted mind was playing tricks on me but when her face contorted into an expression I knew so well I knew that she was real. She looked doubtful, as if she wouldn't have thought that I would be there for her. Wordlessly, I walked over and embraced her, rubbing my hands against her back. She was awake; she was still here with me. My eyes welled up but I blinked back the tears.

"You're awake." I whispered a part of me still afraid that it wasn't real.

"I am." She smiled as I pulled back and for the first time in a week I smiled back. A real smile, not one supplied for meetings and politics but the one I found myself using the more that I was by America.

"I was so afraid, America. You… you almost died. I missed you; it hurt me to see you hurt. And when you crumpled to the ground, I thought you did die. You had a seizure; it was almost too hard for me to carry you to the safe room." I blurted, tears filling his milky eyes. I left out the gruesome details of the past week, how sick she was. How it wasn't just a seizure but her heart stopping too.

"I'm so sorry Maxon." She apologized, not that it was her fault, but she felt bad that I had to witness that, that I had to see her like that. "I didn't know that we made it to the safe room." She blurted. She was so uncertain; I could tell that she didn't like missing all that time in her life.

"I know you were still unconscious even after you stopped convulsing. I think you horrified the other girls too." I said, remembering the events if that afternoon. Her blue eyes closing and her body hitting the ground, convulsing. The sound of getting her heart started again. Her body slamming against the ground and the horrifying sound of her heart stopped. I shuddered.

"How long?" She asked

"A week, the doctors were losing hope that you would ever wake up." I supplied, my voice getting quiet at the end as the memory of the doctor telling me that I shouldn't wait filtered into my mind.

"When did you come and plead for me to wake up?"She asked a horrified expression on her face. Like she wanted the answer but was scared of it too.

"That was 2 days ago, when they told me that you were holding your own but still in a coma. I thought it had worked. You know you are such a tease sometimes." I smiled, she was rebellious. Even when she was in a coma she had managed to tease me in some way, show that side that I feared and loved all the same.

"Maxon?" She asked.

"Yes." I answered leaning in, close to her ear. As if to tell her a secret. My breath traced her ear and I could hear her breathing quicken.

"I love you."She stated, as if it were a fact, just like America to put it so straight.

"I love you too." I replied, amazed that it was true.

No matter what I loved America, she was my princess, my one and I wouldn't let her go for the world. She was mine and I would love her for eternity. I couldn't wait to propose, to marry her, to love her. I wanted her to be my wife, my beautiful redheaded wife. A wife that would change the nation and my heart too. For the better.

**A/N Yay! Happy ending! I hoped you liked it in Maxon's point of view. Might make this into a series. Let me know what you think. Review. **


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